Mis Quince

Last night hubby, the boy, little bro, and the rest of the gang went to a quinceanera with me. If you are unfamiliar with the Mexican tradition of quinceaneras, it's kind of like the American sweet 16 only to the tenth power. There's a catered meal, hundreds of guests, a multi-tiered cake, a choreographed dance show, dj's, damas (like briedsmaids) and chambalanes (like groomsmen, except there's no groom). It's a prequel to the girl's wedding, which in Mexican culture tradionally occurs only a few years later. It's crazy, beautiful, and always out of control. The birthday girl herself dresses up in a big poofy gown that usually looks like a wedding dress.
This quince party was pretty average. It was bigger than some I've seen, smaller than others. The fun part was going to a big Latin party with my little brother. He's new to Latino culture, and he was really quite amazed at the scope of the event. He was also amazed by the overabundance of really pretty girls. I kept teasing him all night that if he'd work up the courage to ask one of them to dance I'd give him the mini-fridge from my classroom and fill it up with Dr. Pepper for him. I must admit, I honestly didn't think he'd have the nerve. He's very shy and pretty girls usually make him clam up very quickly. To all of our surprise, not only did he finally work up the courage to talk to a girl, they chatted for nearly an hour, have tons in common, and he walked away with her contact info and an invitation to a pool party today.
Ha ha ha! Looks like I have to go buy some Dr. Pepper.